


death is hiring

by ellie_cat



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Agender Death, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, Fix-It of Sorts, Grief/Mourning, Grim Reaper Yeo Hwanwoong, Grim Reapers, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Sick Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Soft Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Soft Yeo Hwanwoong, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23806108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellie_cat/pseuds/ellie_cat
Summary: “Sometimes, when Death wants you to come work for them and bear it’s scythe, your body will push you to Death faster. Sometimes, that push manifests as poorly timed clumsiness, sometimes as a dangerously reckless impulse you just can’t ignore, sometimes it’s an illness with no name.”Or : Youngjo has been a patient for most of his life, been sick for most of his life, but doctors have yet to find out what's wrong with him. One Yeo Hwanwoong is sent in, but perhaps not for the reason you'd think.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo & Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Kim Geonhak | Leedo & Lee Seoho, Kim Youngjo | Ravn & Lee Seoho, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 19
Kudos: 56





	death is hiring

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In The End](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768887) by [Vanitelamort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanitelamort/pseuds/Vanitelamort). 



> Inspired entirely by In the End by Vanitelamort, who's oneshot had me imagining how their oneshot would have gone if... Death was hiring? I did get permission to post this, thank you so much! ^^

The world’s population, so small for so long, has exploded in recent centuries, giving birth to world wars, deadly diseases, and increased crime. Death themself, since the beginning of those with souls known as humans, had needed help with all those that died, giving rise to a creature known by many names throughout history. At the moment, you’d know them best as Grim Reapers. 

Given the expansions of world populations, Death has been hiring for quite some time. Not all answered their call, given the non-existent benefits, much less what happens when you accept. There was no health insurance, but employment by Death ensured you’d never become sick again. There was no retirement plan, because you’d never die. Sounds like a good deal, right? Perhaps, but not many enjoy dying, and to work for Death, well, that’s just what you have to do. 

Youngjo wakes up, wincing immediately as the ever present pain floods back into his awareness. The monitor beside him beeps, ever faithfully, at his side letting him know he’s still alive. 

_Weird dream_ , he thinks, as he sits up, before he frowns in confusion. What had his dream been? He must’ve already forgotten. 

His day goes normally after that, a nurse dropping by with his meals and to check on him every once and awhile, but other than that, it’s just him and his tablet. 

When the sun goes down, a nurse comes in and helps him into his wheelchair, helping him up to the rooftop where he likes to watch the traffic and signs of life. He also likes to feel the air, watch the moon and stars and look out for anything interesting. 

Sometimes, a nurse will stay with him if his vitals weren’t strong enough through the day or it’s a bit chilly, but tonight, it’s warm and his vitals were strong enough, and life is good. A video call lights up his tablet screen, and he easily accepts. 

“Youngjo! It’s good to see you outside! Means you’re doing alright!” Seoho greeted him from some hotel balcony. It looked like the sun was just going down there.

“Yeah, the doctors said my vitals have been really good for the last week or so,” Youngjo replied, “Where are you this evening?”

“Malta!” Geonhak replied from off-screen, “it’s been great here!”

“I’m glad!” Youngjo answered. “Make sure to send me lots of pictures and videos of you two being stupid in foreign countries, alright?”

“We always do!” Seoho nodded, “want to watch this sunset with us while we catch up?” 

“You guys call me every day, nothing really changes,” Youngjo sighed, “but I do love watching the sunsets.”

“Alright,” Seoho agreed easily, turning his camera around to show him the sunset, “So Geonhak totally did the stupidest thing ever earlier when we were at the bar,”

“Look, how was I supposed to know he was married?” Geonhak coughed. Seoho laughed, and Youngjo lost himself in imagining the latest situation they’d gotten into. Soon enough though, the sun had disappeared behind the waves, and they signed off for the night. 

“Who were they?” A voice asked, curiosity coloring their question. Youngjo turned, surprised to find a guy standing just a few feet to his side. 

“My friends,” Youngjo said, smiling. The guy had on some soft-looking duck pajamas, and his soft looking blond hair was mussed like he hadn’t bothered brushing his hair in a while. A patient, then?

“Ah, must be nice to have such cool friends like that, even if they’re dumb sometimes,” the guy commented, eyes already back on the scenery. 

“How long were you there?” Youngjo asked, tilting his head at the other. The other shrugged. 

“Not that long, really,” he said, “View is pretty, isn’t it? At least they didn’t transfer me to one of those hospitals in ugly locations. Those ones always make me more depressed.” A patient then.

“What are you in for?” 

“Cystic fibrosis,” the guy answered. “My name’s Hwanwoong, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Youngjo, they don’t really know what’s up with me,” Youngjo replied, watching as a flicker of something crossed the other’s face before it disappeared, just like that. 

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Hwanwoong offered, turning back to the scenery. “How does your family deal with not knowing?”

“They don’t, at least not anymore. I asked them to not visit anymore, I didn’t want it to drag them down anymore than it already had,” Youngjo answered. Hwanwoong’s face crumpled, Youngjo could tell that much. 

“And your friends?” Hwanwoong asked, tilting his head at the tablet held in Youngjo’s hands. “What about them?”

“I live vicariously through them, but not in a creepy way. They make time to talk to me, send me pictures and videos of their lives and travels, and that’s enough for me,” Youngjo explained, “And you?”

“Mostly friends too,” Hwanwoong replied, smiling like there was something funny about that. “Anyway, I should really be going now, getting back on my oxygen and all that. I enjoyed talking to you, Youngjo I’ll see you soon.” 

As he turned, Youngjo thought he saw a flash of something curved and metallic resting over the other’s shoulder, and he shuddered. He must just be tired though, because he blinks and it’s gone. 

The next day he wakes up with the words “Death is hiring” in his mind, and it never leaves, not through his check-ins, not through his meals, not even when he finally makes it up to the rood, not even when he looks over the calm of everyday life. 

“Heya, Youngjo, how are you feeling?” He hears from over his shoulder. Youngjo turns, finding Hwanwoong, dressed in the same duck pyjamas, same messy hair. 

“Fine, today,” Youngjo replies, and Hwanwoong nods, coming to stand just behind Youngjo.

“They usually do,” Hwanwoong says with a smile, like that’s a normal thing to say. 

“You’re weird,” Youngjo comments. “Would you like to meet my friends?” He asks, holding up his tablet awkwardly as it lights up with an incoming call. Hwanwoong laughs softly. 

“I doubt they’ll see me, but sure,” Hwanwoong says, shrugging. Youngjo laughs. 

“I doubt you’re that short,” Youngjo says as he accepts the call. 

“Youngjo! Outside again, you’re 2 for 2, so far! Maybe you’re getting better,” Seoho greets, Youngjo laughs. 

“Not a chance, I’ll be in my room tomorrow now that you’ve said that. Anyway, I want you guys to meet someone,” Youngjo announces, and watches as Geonhak comes into screen at that, both pairs of eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

“Where are they? There’s no one showing up,” Geonhak tells him, and Youngjo frowns, turning to find Hwanwoong right where he was, in perfect view of the tablet’s camera. Hwanwoong smiles at him sadly. 

“I told you, Youngjo. They won’t be able to see me,” Hwanwoong says, “People like them won’t be able to see me for many more years.”

“What- what do you mean?” Youngjo asks, ending the call. The phrase “Death is hiring” whispers through his ears, and he understands, understands even more when it’s like a veil gets lifted from his eyes, and suddenly he’s seeing Hwanwoong, in a black outfit, scythe over his shoulder like it’s natural. “Death is hiring,” he whispers, watches as Hwanwoong’s eyes go wide.

“You remembered. Not many do,” Hwanwoong says, pleased, moving his scythe so fluidly off his shoulder and down to his side that Youngjo is amazed. 

“What does that mean?” Hwanwoong sighs, and a sad expression washes over his face as he walks over to railing, looking out over the city. 

“Sometimes, when Death wants you to come work for them and bear it’s scythe, your body will push you to Death faster. Sometimes, that push manifests as poorly timed clumsiness, sometimes as a dangerously reckless impulse you just can’t ignore, sometimes it’s an illness with no name. Sometimes, if the will of the person being called to Death is stronger than the push, struggling is prolonged, pain, pain is prolonged with the unconscious desire to live just a little bit longer, not knowing after their body breathes its last, what waits after isn’t so bad. You, you got the short end of the stick Youngjo, I’m sorry,” Hwanwoong tells him. “We hate when this happens, because you were in pain for longer than you had to be, but we couldn’t do anything about it until the push was stronger than the will.”

“So I’m going to die,” Youngjo murmurs, “but I’ll be alright? I’ll be like you?”

“Yes, if you would like to. We don’t, we don’t force it. Death doesn’t force it,” Hwanwoong answers, looking at him with conviction in his eyes. Youngjo nods, gulps, looks down at his tablet and what it represents makes him feel like crying. “You can talk to them one last time, if you’d like. You really should. Unless you want the next time they see you to be when you collect their souls, if you get assigned to them.”

“I still have time?” Youngjo asked, watching as his screen lit up with a call to be accepted. 

“You do,” Hwanwoong says, “I’ll even wait until you’re done.”

“Thank you,” Youngjo says, hitting accept. 

“Why’d you hang up on us!?” Seoho whines, “Were they shy or something?”

“Yeah,” Youngjo says, smiling, “you could say that.” Hwanwoong chuckles behind him. 

“Alright, I guess. Did anything new happen with you?” Geonhak asks, and Youngjo laughs, pretending to think about it before shaking his head. 

“I’d rather hear about you guys, if that’s alright,” Youngjo says, soft, quiet. Seoho nods, and they do, they tell him everything, just like always. And it’s perfect, as he watches their sunrise with the, knowing it’ll be his last. When they’re done, Youngjo takes a deep breath. 

“I want you guys to know how much you mean to me, if something happens,” Youngjo says, and they both pause, their faces stricken. 

“You’ll be- you’re doing fine, Youngjo. What brought this on?” Seoho asked, quiet, too quiet for someone like him, bright and loud and like a flame drawing moths like him in. 

“Nothing. I just realized I never said it, and I wanted you to know. You two’ve become my family these past few years. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” Youngjo tells them. “When I’m better,” he says, stops, tries not to cry because he knows that won’t happen now, “take me to see the sunsets around the world with you, okay?”

“Of course we will, Youngjo. We love you too, man,” Geonhak says, sounding as close to crying as Youngjo feels. 

“I should get some rest, though. I’ll see you guys soon, okay?” Youngjo says, and when they reply with well wishes, he ends the call, and looks up at the moon, looks behind him at Hwanwoong. 

“You can cry. It’s never easy, I know,” Hwanwoong says, and that’s all it takes for him to start crying. 

“It’s a shame,” Youngjo jokes, through the tears, “I’ve never been kissed.” Hwanwoong’s eyes go wide before he smiles, realizing it’s mostly a joke. 

“Yeah? That’s not so uncommon, you know,” Hwanwoong tells him.

“Are all Grim Reapers so pretty?” Youngjo asks, and that one makes Hwanwoong’s eyes go wide and stay wide. 

“Just- just me. I can, try to, you know, make it so you’ve been kissed, before you die, if you want,” Hwanwoong stumbles, and Youngjo smiles, reaching out for him. Hwanwoong steps into his arms easily, a bright smile on his face. 

“Will it hurt?” Youngjo asks, eyeing the scythe as Hwanwoong leans close. Hwanwoong shakes his head. 

“It only hurts for those with tainted souls, those that have what you’d call evil in their hearts. You won’t feel a thing,” Hwanwoong promises, “If you still don’t believe me, I could give you another kiss as I do it.”

“Another?” Youngjo asks, bewildered. Hwanwoong leans in and kisses him then, and it's uncoordinated, and surprising, and a car honks way down below in the background, but by Youngjo’s books, it’s just all the right kinds of perfect. 

“Another,” Hwanwoong says as he pulls away, just the faintest blush across his cheeks as he turns and goes to get his scythe. “You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not, not when you’re here,” Youngjo says, and means it. Hwanwoong’s blush darkens as he leans close again, lips just barely apart from Youngjo’s. This close, Youngjo lets himself relax, now that he can’t see the scythe. All he can see is Hwanwoong, Hwanwoong framed by full moonlight and his blonde hair and the brown of his eyes glows a soft amber. 

Youngjo’s never been much for religion, but he could swear this right here, in this moment, is heaven. 

Hwanwoong leans in, and seals his lips in the softest kiss of death he thinks anyone’s ever received in all of time. His heart stops, he takes his last breath, and his brain shuts down. 

The next thing he knows, he’s standing and staring at his body, Hwanwoong’s hand in his. 

He’s smiling, a soft little smile even in death. 

“You’ll be found soon, as soon as they can get to you,” Hwanwoong says, leaning his head on Youngjo’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Maybe not right now,” Youngjo answers honestly, leaning his head down on Hwanwoong’s, “but I will be.”

“Good,” Hwanwoong breathes. “Now, to get you your scythe, Mr.Grim Reaper,” Hwanwoong says, and gently, softly, guides him away from his body, to somewhere far far away. 

“Death!” Hwanwoong yells in the… garden? They’ve found themselves in. A person appears, but Youngjo can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman. They have long hair that shines silver, but their features are sharp, their body is feminine, but muscled and defined. 

“Hwanwoong, dear Reaper, you’ve bought me an applicant, have you?” Death says, and their voice is decidedly neither. They both laugh like it’s a joke, which it probably is. “Dear Youngjo, would you like to become a Reaper? Even though I’ve called you to me, I do not require you to become one of my Reapers.”

“I want to,” Youngjo says. “If you’ll have me.” Death smiles, and he feels like he’s home. Hwanwoong gasps from beside him, drawing his attention away from his new boss. 

“Your hair! It turned silver! Mine only went blond,” Hwanwoong tells him, practically vibrating in excitement, punctuating the last sentence with a pout. 

“Welcome, Youngjo,” Death tells him, drawing his attention back as they chuckle at Hwanwoong. “Calm now, dear Reaper.”

“I have a question,” Youngjo says, and Death nods. “Can I work with another Reaper, or?”

“You’ll do your assignments on your own, but I assure you you two won’t ever be apart for long,” Death assures him. He nods, relaxing. “Now, go, you two. It’s just about sunset in Malta. You won’t want to miss it.” Youngjo’s eyes widen. 

“See you later, Death,” Hwanwoong says, and and suddenly, they’re on a beach, and Hwanwoong’s hand is in his, and when he looks over. When he looks over there stand Seoho and Geonhak, crying profusely as they watch the sunset. 

“What is this?” Youngjo asks. Hwanwoong gives him a smile as he helps him sit down. 

“You’ll see. We’re really here, just so you know, they just can’t see or hear us.”

“I wish we could’ve been there for him,” Geonhak rumbles through the tears, sniffing. “We should’ve been there for him.”

“Maybe, but watching these sunsets with him brought him so much joy. We had no way of knowing it was going to happen,” Seoho replies. Neither of them have looked away from the sunset yet. 

Youngjo slowly gets up, and plops down in between them to watch the sunset with him. In the distance, a dolphin jumps out of the water, and Seoho and Geonhak start crying louder. 

“You think that was him, lettin’ us know he’s alright, where he is?” Geonhak asks, and Youngjo’s heart breaks for all that it amuses him, because he’s right there with them, feeling good, great, for once. 

“Yeah,” Seoho says, and they cry louder, falling silent as the sun sets lower, lower, and lower still. For a moment, if Youngjo tunes out the crying, it’s almost like he’s still there with them, watching this sunset. When the sun is just above the horizon, Seoho and Geonhak stand, each picking up a deflated lantern from beside them. 

“Rest well, my friend,” Seoho murmurs as he lights his, gently letting it go into the sky. “I’ll always remember you.”

“You were such a great friend, even if you never could leave the hospital. It’s why we traveled so much. For you, so you could see just as much as we did,” Geonhak murmured as he lit his, letting it go equally as gently for all that he looked like a muscular bear of a man. “I’ll take you with me, wherever I go, for all the sunsets I see.”

They all watch as the two dots of light climb higher, higher, before they look just like the stars. Hwanwoong gently nudges him, and when he looks down, the other is holding out two perfect sand dollars. 

“Give these to them,” Hwanwoong says, placing it in his hands. “To remember you by.” Youngjo nods, and gently takes them. He places them carefully on the towel set out next to Seoho and Geonhak, and then takes Hwanwoong’s hand back in his. 

“Seoho,” Geonhak calls, having been the first to turn around and spot them. “Look.”

“Oh my God,” Seoho exclaims, gently picking one of the sand dollars up. “We didn’t need that much reassurance, idiot. We know you’ll be okay. Just. Just give us some time to be okay, too?”

“Always,” Youngjo answers, “As much time as you need.” Seoho nods, like he’s heard him, and they start packing their things away, carefully stashing the gifts away. 

“Are you ready to go?” Hwanwoong asks, leaning his head on his shoulder again. 

Youngjo hesitates as he watches them start to walk away, none the wiser to his presence. He smiles, swallowing down the sadness in his throat, and nods. 

“I think I am,” Youngjo says. “Where to?”

“Home,” Hwanwoong says, wrapping his arms around Youngjo’s waist, and when he next opens his eyes, they are home. “If you want it to be.”

“I do,” Youngjo answers, looking around the small, warm home he’s found himself in. 

“Then welcome home,” Hwanwoong says, leading him further into the home by his hand. He’s cured, he has a job, someone to love, and a home and all he had to do? Die for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I have ideas for how to expand this if anyone even wants that... maybe I’ll just write about other groups in the same universe.


End file.
